Delivery to the Lost City

by P. G. Bell

  Suzy wedged herself into the seat beside the table, keeping a firm grip on both the book and the Chief’s skull as the blinding light filled the caravan. It was so bright it seemed to shine right through the walls, as though they were made of glass. Suzy scrunched her eyes shut, but the light shone straight through her as well. She felt as if she barely existed at all.

  And with the light came images—a tower of gold rising above a slate-gray sea, magic arcing from it like the beam of a lighthouse, busy streets beneath a sky of shining rainbow colors. The taste of salty sea air.

  This wasn’t just her imagination, Suzy realized. The images had the weight and feel of memory behind them. But not her own memory. Hydroborea’s.

  Something stirred with a rustle like old paper, and with a start, she realized that she was not alone. Something else was there in the memory with her. She couldn’t see it clearly, but she got the impression of something big and ancient and very, very powerful looking down on her with ink-black eyes.

  “This is the world I left behind,” it said, and its voice was that of the book.

  Fascination and fear churned inside Suzy. “What are you?” she whispered.

  “I am overdue,” the thing replied. “Return me to Hydroborea. You have sixteen and a half hours remaining.”

  Then the H.E.C. plunged into the fracture, the memory faded, and there was nothing but light.

  11

  NOTHING TO SEE HERE

  Suzy couldn’t tell how long they traveled through the fracture in reality. She wasn’t even sure that time existed there at all. There was just the all-pervading light, and when it suddenly snapped off, she found herself lying on the linoleum floor of the H.E.C. She tried to move, but her body responded by firing jagged bolts of pain through her head and down into her limbs. She groaned.

  The H.E.C. was dark and still. Moonlight angled in through the windows, as cold and ghostly as the Chief, who hovered anxiously over her.

  “Welcome back to the land of the living,” he said. “Are you hurt?”

  Suzy sat up, wincing. “Nothing serious,” she said. “Wilmot? Are you all right?”

  “I think so.” He appeared as a dark silhouette against the moonlight, and patted himself down. “I’m a little battered, but everything still seems to be attached.”

  He helped Suzy to her feet, only for her to immediately lose her balance again as the H.E.C. rolled and shifted underfoot. At first, she put it down to dizziness, but then she realized that the caravan really was bobbing about. It made her feel a little queasy.

  “They say any landing you can walk away from is a success,” said Wilmot, dusting himself off.

  Suzy staggered to the rear window and looked out. “What about ones you can swim away from?” she asked. Wilmot and the Chief joined her, and together they looked out on an endless expanse of ocean, dotted here and there with jagged islands that glittered a ghostly white in the moonlight. “Icebergs,” said Suzy. “Where are we?”

  “This is Hydroborea’s world,” said the book, from the floor underneath the folding table. Suzy picked it up.

  “It is?” She hurried to the rear window, but there was nothing to see but more ocean. “Then where is it? Are we close?”

  “I do not know,” said the book. “This is where the city once stood. It should be here.”

  “You mean we came all this way, and Hydroborea’s still missing?” said Suzy.

  “Correct,” said the book. “Return me to Hydroborea.”

  Suzy considered shutting the book in the air lock where she wouldn’t have to listen to it, but she mastered the urge. As it said in Chapter 2 of The Knowledge, “A postie always treats their deliveries with respect.” Even if they were really annoying.

  “Fine,” she said. “We’ll just keep looking. At least we know we’re on the right world now. It’s got to be somewhere nearby.”

  Wilmot made a little noise in his throat. He had returned to the control console while Suzy talked to the book, and now he looked at her with foreboding. “I’m afraid we won’t be going anywhere,” he said. “Pushing through the fracture overloaded the engine’s molecular bifurcator. It’s completely burned out. We’ve got no power left.”

  The discomfort in Suzy’s stomach intensified, but it had little to do with seasickness. “I can’t have brought us all this way for nothing,” she said weakly.

  Wilmot gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, Suzy,” he said. “It was a really good plan. But it looks like the stories are true—the city must have destroyed itself completely. There’s no trace of it left.”

  Suzy sat down heavily on the pullout sofa. Its cushions were torn and the stuffing was leaking out, but she hardly noticed. She was too preoccupied with the sickly mix of guilt and anxiety crawling through her veins. “So now what do we do?” she croaked.

  “I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do,” said Wilmot. “We’re adrift, there’s no sign of land, and without power we’re going to stay here until we starve.”

  His words settled like cold weights in the pit of her stomach. “Can we fix the engines?”

  Wilmot shook his head. “The molecular bifurcator’s beyond repair, and we haven’t got a backup. Even if we did, I’m a Postmaster, not an engineer. I wouldn’t know how to replace it.”

  Even through the gloom, she saw the look of concern on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish I could do more.”

  Suzy put a hand on his arm. “This isn’t your fault,” she said. Because it was all her fault, she knew. Her plan had ended in disaster, and she couldn’t see any way of fixing it. They were going to drift here, lost and alone, until the H.E.C. became just another empty wreck. She wondered if she and Wilmot would become ghosts, like the Chief and his crew. She couldn’t tell if that would be better or worse than just dying.

  Imagine haunting this place forever, a treacherous little voice in her mind said. Stuck in a broken caravan with nowhere to go and nothing to do. You should have listened to your parents.

  Her parents!

  They broke into her thoughts again like a wrecking ball. She hadn’t even said good-bye to them. What were they going to think when she never came home? This new thought wasn’t just painful; it was terrifying, and her eyes pricked with unexpected tears.

  “Suzy?” Wilmot was at her side. “Are you all right?”

  With a concerted effort, she blinked the tears back and nodded. “Don’t worry about me,” she said. “Let’s just concentrate on finding a way out of here.”

  “But how?” he said. “Everything’s dead.”

  “Except us,” she replied. And then, to the Chief, “Present company excepted.”

  He doffed his hat to her.

  “Much obliged. You know, being lost at sea is something of a specialty of mine, and I can’t help noticing that neither of you have taken our bearings yet.”

  “Er, no,” said Wilmot. “How do we do that?”

  “With a clear sky and a keen eye, of course,” said the Chief. “Follow me and we’ll do a little stargazing.” He rose up through the ceiling. Wilmot hopped up onto the table and opened the sunroof. Suzy gave him a boost, and he disappeared through it.

  “G-gosh, it’s cold!” Wilmot exclaimed, reaching down to help Suzy up. The air bit into her like a thousand tiny knives as she emerged onto the roof.

  “It’s not just c-cold, it’s f-freezing!” she said, the words bursting out of her in a cloud of steam. She pulled her greatcoat tightly around herself, but it did little to help. The skin of her face and hands already felt tight and raw, and she could see tiny ice crystals forming on her eyelashes.

  There were no stars to be seen, but the sky was alive with dancing light: Curtains of pink, green, and blue shifted and billowed, as though blown by invisible winds.

  “An aurora!” said Suzy. “W-we have these on Earth. They’re caused by ionized p-particles from the s-sun entering the upper atmosphere. People call them the n-northern lights. I’ve always w-wanted to see them.”
>
  “To be sure, it’s a fine display,” said the Chief, who, Suzy realized, didn’t feel the cold one bit.

  “But s-still no s-sign of H-Hydroborea,” said Wilmot, his whole body shaking with the cold now.

  Suzy tore her gaze away from the aurora, climbed unsteadily to her feet, and turned a complete circle. He was right—the ocean seemed to go on forever, and there was nothing but broken flotillas of ice all the way to the horizon. “But it m-must be s-somewhere,” she said. “Otherwise wh-why would the b-book have b-brought us here?”

  “I d-d-don’t know,” Wilmot replied. “B-but at least w-we’re out of the v-v-void. That’s s-something.”

  “Yes, but without p-power, we’re s-still stuck here,” said Suzy. “And we’re running out of t-time to deliver the b-book.” She cupped her hands over her mouth and breathed through them, trying to coax some feeling back into her numb fingers.

  “This is probably a bit of a long shot,” said the Chief, pointing over her shoulder, “but perhaps that beastie over there can give us directions.”

  Suzy looked behind her, straight into a luminous green eye the size of a bowling ball. It was attached to the end of a muscular black tentacle that rose out of the water and towered over the H.E.C. Wilmot yelped and almost fell overboard, but Suzy caught him by the collar.

  A second tentacle broke the surface, its lidless eye fixed on them. Suzy saw rows of circular mouths down the tentacle’s length, each lined with rows of needle-sharp teeth. A third tentacle rose into view, and a fourth, and a fifth, until the H.E.C. was surrounded.

  “Avast!” exclaimed the Chief. “Make no sudden moves. It’s sizing us up.”

  “A-and th-then what?” stammered Wilmot.

  “It’ll either leave us in peace,” said the Chief. “Or…”

  The tentacles twitched. Suzy just had time to react before one of them lashed down toward her. She grabbed Wilmot and rolled aside as it swept straight through the Chief and struck the roof, making the H.E.C. tilt alarmingly.

  “Hold on!” shouted Suzy, grabbing the rim of the open sunroof with one hand and tightening her grip on Wilmot’s collar with the other.

  More tentacles erupted from the sea, churning the waters around the H.E.C. into foam.

  “I th-think,” said Suzy, “we’re in t-trouble.”

  “It’s a whopper all right,” said the Chief. “Man the harpoons!”

  “We d-don’t have any!” wailed Wilmot.

  Another tentacle lunged toward them, but Suzy was ready for it. Using all her strength, she pulled herself in through the sunroof, dragging Wilmot with her. The tentacle struck the roof and secured itself with a quick series of slurping noises. The H.E.C. rocked again, tossing Suzy off balance as she fought to climb onto the table and pull the sunroof shut.

  She steadied herself and reached up for the catch, only to find herself face-to-eyeball with the creature. She froze, horrified, as the tentacle snaked in through the opening, looking her over from head to foot. The countless sucker-mouths slavered and slurped, dripping thick slime onto the linoleum.

  Then a burst of white fog erupted from over Suzy’s shoulder, straight into the eye.

  “Leave her alone!” shouted Wilmot, wielding a small brass fire extinguisher. He unleashed another blast of vapor, filling the cabin of the H.E.C. When it dispersed a second later, the tentacle had retreated out of sight.

  Suzy wasted no time, but jumped and pulled the sunroof shut, fastening the catch securely. The moment she had done so, another tentacle slammed down across it.

  “Thanks,” she gasped.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” said Wilmot.

  The H.E.C. shook as yet more tentacles struck. Suzy and Wilmot huddled together in the middle of the cabin as the view through the windows was obscured by the thick, fleshy protuberances, and a couple of the big green eyes were pressed against the glass, staring in at them.

  “Chief!” Suzy shouted. “What’s going on out there?”

  The Chief descended through the ceiling.

  “It’s fascinating!” he said. “The beast is wrapping us in its clutches.”

  “Is that fascinating?” asked Wilmot. “Because I’d have thought it’s mostly terrifying.”

  “My apologies,” said the Chief. “But it’s been many a century since I was last assailed by a sea monster, and the experience doesn’t quite hold the mortal terror that it once did.”

  “Speak for yourself,” said Wilmot as the H.E.C. tilted wildly in the creature’s grip.

  Suzy grabbed at the table to stop herself from falling flat. “What about your phone?” she said. “We can call for help!”

  Wilmot went wide-eyed. “Why didn’t I think of that?” he said. “But will it even work this far from the Union? What if there’s no signal?”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” said Suzy. “Quickly! Call the Express.”

  “Right!” Fighting to keep his balance, he pulled the phone from his pocket and dialed the number. His face fell. “It’s not dialing out,” he said.

  Suzy deflated.

  “Wait!” she said. “It’s powered by movement, and you’re standing still. Hurry! Start moving!”

  Wilmot started jogging on the spot. “Still nothing,” he said.

  Suzy’s mind raced. Then she grabbed the Chief’s skull, folded up the table, opened the door to the air lock, and squeezed inside. “There,” she said. “That’s as much room as we can give you. See if it’s enough.”

  “Oh, good thinking,” said the Chief, who hadn’t bothered to move along with his skull, and still hovered in the middle of the H.E.C. “Don’t mind me. I’m incorporeal, y’know.”

  Wilmot nodded eagerly and began jogging from one end of the H.E.C. to the other. It only took him a few steps in each direction, and he had to pass back and forth through the Chief as he did so. But then, as he turned to retrace his steps for the fifth time, the tips of his ears pricked up. “It’s dialing!” he said.

  * * *

  Frederick leaned against the handrail of the Belle’s gangway and watched the shadows of the palm trees lengthen as the sun dipped toward the rim of the Topaz Narrows. The Express had left the main line and now stood on a siding in the shelter of a coral atoll, beside a scattering of weather-beaten fishing boats bobbing at anchor. The Belle’s boiler ticked as it cooled, and the crest of every wave was crowned with golden light. All was calm and peaceful. Apart from Suzy’s mom’s voice, which reached him from the cab’s open doorway.

  “Don’t you dare put me on hold again! I demand to speak to your supervisor. To your supervisor’s supervisor! To—” There was a moment’s silence, followed by a scream of frustration that startled a few roosting seagulls out of the nearby trees.

  Frederick sighed. He had retreated to the gangway to escape the angry exchanges that his confession had unleashed, but he had been out here for more than an hour now and things clearly weren’t improving.

  Why do they insist on being so stupid about all this? he wondered. But he kept the thought to himself as he tiptoed to the cab and poked his head inside.

  Suzy’s mom stood at the hearth, the receiver of the cab’s old-fashioned rotary dial phone clamped to her ear with both hands and her face set in a determined scowl. Suzy’s dad, meanwhile, flitted nervously about the room, wringing his hands and muttering to himself under his breath.

  Maybe we should just go home and call the police,” he said. “Or the air ambulance service. Or NASA! Yes, maybe they can send a rocket or something…”

  Frederick cleared his throat. “You’re not still on hold to the Central Post Office, are you?” he asked.

  Suzy’s mom flared her nostrils. “Someone tell that boy that I’m not talking to him,” she declared.

  “Yes, she is,” said Stonker, who was slumped in an armchair in the far corner. Ursel lay on the floor beside him, and they both looked thoroughly bored. “We’ve tried telling her it’s no use. Even if she gets through to the Postmaster General himself, he won’t
be able to do anything.”

  “Well, somebody has to do something,” said Suzy’s mom. “I’m not going to rest until we get Suzy back, even if I have to take the matter all the way to the top. Calum and I can’t be the only ones who care about her safety.” She aimed a hard look over her shoulder at Frederick as she said this, and he felt a prickle of resentment in response.

  “I’m not in charge of Suzy,” he retorted. “She wanted to go. I just didn’t stop her.”

  “Well, you should have,” said Suzy’s dad. “You let her put herself in danger.”

  “Suzy’s always putting herself in danger,” said Frederick. “And then she gets herself out of it again. It’s what she does best.”

  “She’s out there in a flying caravan,” said Suzy’s dad, “heading for a killer storm, guided by the ghost of a man who didn’t survive his last voyage.”

  Frederick opened his mouth to respond, but his answer stuck in his mouth, half-formed. Before he could finish it, Suzy’s mom jerked the receiver away from her ear and shook it.

  “Hello?” she shouted into it. “Are you still there? Hello?” Her face reddened with anger and she slammed the phone down. “They hung up on me!”

  “Gronf,” said Ursel, lifting her head off the floor.

  “Yes, it’s probably just a fault on the line,” said Stonker. “Perhaps they’ll call you back.”

  “Not if I call them back first,” said Suzy’s mom. Stonker and Ursel rolled their eyes as she reached for the phone again, but it rang before she had even touched it.

  “Gosh,” said Stonker. “I wasn’t actually expecting it to happen.”

  Suzy’s mom snatched up the receiver. “And I should think so, too,” she said into it. “If you think you’re going to get rid of me that easily, then you…” She trailed off and her mouth dropped open in shock. “Wilmot?” she said quietly. “Is that you?”

  “Grolf!” Ursel was on her feet in an instant and crossed the cab in a single bound, quickly followed by Stonker. She reached out a claw and hit the speakerphone button on the phone’s cradle as Frederick slipped inside and hovered beside Suzy’s dad, who finally stopped his pacing.